The Wandering Musician
by wingedsilverfang222
Summary: As time passes the melody changes. But sometimes it's impossible because that one tune just will not leave you alone. Drabbles - abstract timeline
1. The Wandering Musician

Albarne was a small planet, so small in fact that it's population numbered only in the low millions. This was mainly due to its scorching desert climate of which made it difficult for even the most hardened of creatures to survive in.

Albarne's civilisation mainly consisted of Iridanians, a race of four armed, three eyed desert dwellers - well know for being a group of pacifists.

Therefore, it was not particularly shocking to learn that when an uninvited guest decided to become well acquainted with their only water source, the Iridanians were unable to form any sort of resistance.

As such, their race was slowly and surely dying out.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

Alakya hissed as he swung the two bats, simultaneously, into the cactus. Knowing without doubt that whatever water resided within would in no way be enough to sate his family's thirst _. I have to try_. Repeated through his head, again and again, it was the only thing keeping him going. _I have to_ -

"Oh! Hello there! Excuse me!"

\- _try_?

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

Alakya and his mother couldn't help but share a glance as they both observed their rather, unexpected visitor. The man, by appearance alone, seemed to be undeniably human and they were both secretly fascinated.

Alakya found himself leaning forward in his seat only to flinch back as the man's eyes met with his own, an uncanny knowing about them. Alakya gulped, was gold a normal human eye colour? And the eyes themselves! He had seen humans once in passing and none of them had possessed eyes filled with so much knowledge and age and... apathy?

But then again the Iridanian mused how does someone would someone who seems so knoweledgeble forget what planet they are on? He turned back to the man, who was now giving a strange closed eye smile in response to a question from his mother. Yes. I must have been seeing something.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

"Oh! Hello there! Excuse me!"

One of the bats held in Alakya's hands fell to the ground with a resounding thump and rolled to rest at the stranger's feet as the boy turned quickly to meet his unexpected audience.

"Hello?"

"Yes," the stranger replied with a small condescending smirk that Alakya immediately took a dislike to,

"Hello," his smirk only persisted as the Iridanian remained unable to form a coherent answer.

"What - cat got you tongue? Oh wait I suppose you don't have them here do you?" Alakya shook his head in confusion what exactly was a cat? Still unable to form a response.

"Excuseee me? Anyone home? Because I really need some information here kid. Kid?"

Once again the man was ignored, for one simple reason.

He should be dead.

It was one of the main reasons as to why Albarne was uninhabitable by many species, the temperature alone. The planet's surface could easily hit 200 degrees on a good day! So how exactly was someone standing before him so calmly, as if taking a casual stroll?!

Meanwhile, upon seeing that the alien in front of him was not going to be much use the man gave a great sigh, before turning and beginning to stride away, intent on finding answers elsewhere.

"W-wait!" Alakya shouted, raising an arm as though to physically grasp the man's attention.

"Hmmmm?"

Undeterred the boy forged on, remembering his mother's words _always remember your manners Alakya, always remember you manner Alakya_

"Follow me. Back to the village, you can rest in my home and I can give you any information you need!"

The man cocked his head in a manner not dissimilar to a bird, his eyes not leaving Alakya's face for a second, causing the boy to almost completely regret his spur of the moment decision.

"Sure,"

Alakya exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding before turning and beckoning the man to follow him, only stopping to gather the shards of cactus scattered around him into a rough bag, not seeing the man at his side cataloguing his every move.

They were halfway back to the village when the man spoke again.

"So what planet is this?"

-wait, what.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

"So this, 'monster' of yours. It's commandeered the water source?" Alakya's mother nodded, quick and hesitant, her hands were joined together in two pairs on the table, one nursing a cup of some steaming drink. The man sat opposite, one arm casually resting on the table and the other travelling his face, fingers splayed, his own mug abandoned to the side in favour of his interrogation.

In truth Alakya wasn't even sure how the conversation had reached this point but the man certainly seemed interested in their problem. _Maybe he could help_? Alakya stubbornly ignored his own thoughts in favour of turning to the their visitor,

"I could show you... the cave that is, if you want,"

The man's eyes immediately captured his own before the smirk returned and with it Alakya's doubt.

Who was this man, really?

"Of course."

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

"Well it's actually fairly simple."

Fairly simple.

That was it.

Alakya couldn't help but fume. Because, of course it was fairly simple. Because, of course the monster they had feared so much was simply a migrating _herbivorous_ sea-spara who had gotten stranded on Albarne by accident before being forced to remain in the water on fear of dying of dehydration on top of the intolerable heat.

So all this time the Iridanian's had been struggling to get by for absolutely no reason?

"Yes." Alakya started as the man leaned over him to place a palm on his mother's arm, wait did he just read his min-

"Don't worry now, it's all over you've got your water and some people are coming to pick up the sea-spara and move it way, la la la la la, all's well that ends well,"

Alakya swallowed and glanced at his mother, was the man already leaving?

But how as he going to -

With a sigh, and a casual pinch of alakya's nose which left him reeling, the man proceeded to back away and remove his bag, unzipping it to reveal a elegantly carved piece of wood that Alakya guessed to be an instrument of some sort, judging by the addition of strings.

The man held the wood in a strange position, bringing the piece up to rest in his collarbone before adding continued support with his left hand and shoulder.

"Well, goodbye to you both, great meeting you," the man said as he brought an additional piece of equipment that Alakya had not seen, up with a flourish,

"WAIT!" The Iridanian yelled, making the man lift his head up, his eyebrows raised in confusion, "Who are you?"

"Oh me? I'm simply a wandering Musician." said Musician winked, "don't worry about it kid,"

And then, with a single stroke of the bow to the violin.

The Musician disappeared, almost as though he was never there to begin with.


	2. The Second Musician

His first would always hold a place on his heart, for it was the body he was born in, the one he had grown into, the one that had learned and improved over the stretch of time he had worn it.

It was in his first body that his fingers had first caressed the keys of a piano, that his palms had first met the fine wood of a violin, that his hands had written out his first true melody.

His first body was a body of firsts and for that he would always remember it.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

Back then he had possessed fine ash-blonde hair, grown to his shoulders and tied in a neat bun with his fringe a victim of his hands as he struggled with a new composition or missed a key on an old classic. Now his hair was black and spiky, cut shorter than ever before to just the base of his neck, thankfully he retained his fringe - he did miss the weight of his old customary bun.

His eyes had been an iron grey and he recalled being told more than once that his stare had been comforting and warm, a constant - one that was needed especially in those times, in a stark contrast to now it seemed. Apparently golden yellow was not a comforting colour, quite the opposite in fact.

He had also been quite tall, reaching six foot and more, whereas now he barely scraped give foot five, disappointing in comparison to the average human male, and downright insulting for a time lord.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

It was an odd habit for time lords to possess, but a habit nonetheless. Whenever they reached a new generation generation they absolutely has to change their style of dress.

The habit had not skipped him.

His first had been smart, black suit, jacket and tie with a crisp white shirt. Everyday and always. It pays to look business like. He had always said. And now look at him. Tight black trousers and combat boots alongside an oversized hoodie. He looked like the teenager he was supposed to be in his first body. Especially considering his small and lean stature.

 **XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

It had been a sacrifice he had been willing to make. He had been off planet at the time the blast had hit. Unfortunately, he had remained within the outer bounds of the blast zone as Gallifrey was systematically destroyed and at that point he had been left with two possible options, basically a lot for a time lord to work with.

Option one was to simply remain where he was and hope the initial blast would be enough to direct him away from the resultant damage whilst option two was to actually move his tardis.

It took him seconds to process that option one was not available. The blast was simply too strong and, due to the high concentration of time vortex energy ( of all things ) because, yes. It was Gallifrey in the midst of being destroyed.

So option two it was. Only problem was his tardis didn't have enough power.

[ But someone else did ]

The landing wasn't comfortable, not by a long shot, but he as alive and his tardis was alive [ thank the gods ] and, and...

He bring his palm up in front of his face as he lay on his back, panting on the wooden floor.

Was his hand always this small?


End file.
